What a Drag
by RedRainStar
Summary: While relaxing in Baker Street, John finds out something very interesting about Sherlock's private life... non slash, but read how you want, I guess. Rated T for mild language and mild, tongue-in-cheek themes
1. Chapter 1

**I was introduced to "SHERLOCK" by a friend, and fell in love. It has got to be one of the best shows on the BBC, and I can't wait until the new series comes out!**

**I love the way Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman perform Sherlock and Watson. They've got a really great chemistry on screen, perfect for the characters, and Benedict has to be the best Sherlock. I got this idea last night and just had to write it! Please enjoy!**

"That, is the most useless disguise ever."

In was a Sunday afternoon in April. Sherlock and I were sat in Baker Street, watching a film on the TV. It was some 1970's Shakespeare production, one of the ones where the female lead has to dress as a man to "avoid being molested" or something ridiculous. I was mildly interested, but Sherlock was engrossed. He was perched on his toes in his arm chair, resting his chin on his fists, his grey eyes flickering across the screen, taking in every minute detail. Every couple of scenes, he would smirk at something happening in the background that normal people wouldn't have noticed, like the boom-mike appearing in the corner, or one of the extras picking their noses.

I looked over to him at his comment.

"You mean the girl's disguise?"

"If by the girl, you mean Rosalind, get your facts right John," He corrected me. "And yes, her disguise. It's shameful. They could have at least made _some _effort. God, she's not even _trying _to walk like a man!" He spat as the actress, walked, admittedly, very femininely across the screen.

"And you have experience in such matters?" I joked, picking up my mug of tea and swirling it around experimentally.

"Having had to dress as a member of the opposite sex on numerous occasions, I'd say so."

I nearly spat back into my tea. I checked to see if my flatmate was joking, but his eyes were still set on the box, his face showing no change in emotion.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously what?" Sherlock drawled slowly, narrowing his eyes but still not looking at me.

"You? In drag?"

Sherlock pulled his gaze slightly reluctantly from the screen with a curious expression. I spluttered with laughter. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that John, I didn't do it for fun."

"No, no, of course not. Of course you didn't." I snorted, my attempt at containing my laughter failing miserably. "Are there pictures?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock barked. I bent my head over my cup as the detective resumed watching the film. There was silence for a few minutes before I began to giggle again. Sherlock looked at me with withering distain, and I put my hand to my mouth and started coughing violently.

"Frog in my, uh, throat." I patted my neck a few times.

"There are cough lozenges in kitchen cupboard if you want one John." Sherlock brought his feet out from under him with a snap and flopped into the chair in the normal manner. I rose and sauntered into the chemistry lad that was our kitchen/dining room, the two mugs clinking in my hand.

"Just tea for me thanks," Sherlock called.

"Only if you tell me why you've been dressing as a woman." I chanced, sticking my head around the door frame.

"Please." Sherlock said, almost pleadingly. Possibly on the brink of a very exciting discovery about Sherlock's private life, I put the mugs down and crossed to the socket at the other side of the TV. Sherlock's eyes widened involuntarily.

"That is extremely childish John."

"If you don't tell me, I'll pull it."

Sherlock's face hardened, his shoulders pulled back and his back straightened. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would." I tilted my head, urging him to have a go at me. Sherlock stared me down for a moment, before sighing.

"Let me finish the film first."

"Now, Holmes." I ordered, my hand edging closer, curling my fingers around the plastic plug head.

"Ok ok!" Sherlock raised his hands, horror flashing across his face."I had to do it for a few cases."

I withdrew my hand, shaking with laughter. "Oh, sure you did. All for the case, that's definitely it."

"It's true!" My flatmate protested. "Dressing as an old woman can be beneficial when trying to get information."

"Are you _sure _it was just an old woman you were dressing as? Or were there times when younger women were called for?" I pressed coyly.

"John!" Sherlock slammed his hand down on the coffee table. "Shut up and let me watch the film!"

I whistled and left the consulting detective in peace, making a new pot of tea before trying my next question.

"_Are _there pictures?"

"Ask Lestrade nicely and he might show you the case files." Sherlock reached out his hand for the tea, but I was already putting on my coat. "Where are you going?"

"Scotland Yard. Lestrade must a field day looking through all of those pictures. Really Sherlock, I never thought you had it in you."

Sherlock bounded energetically off his chair and followed me down the stairs, urgency telling in his voice.

"I was being sarcastic, just joking."

"Of course you were." I said soothingly, patting his shoulder before I stepped out of the door onto the busy Baker Street pavement. Sherlock stumbled out behind me, his scarf trailing out of his coat pocket as he swung it on.

"Now John, think about this!"

"Oh I have." I nodded, waving down a taxi. "I think this will be a very entertaining afternoon."

"John, if you go to Scotland Yard, I will post pictures of you and Sarah on my blog!"

I froze. "What pictures?"

Sherlock buried his hands in his pockets with a smirk. "Ah, well Doctor, that's my little secret, isn't it?"

"Sherlock," I warned, but he laughed as he strode back to 221b. "What pictures?"

Sherlock Holmes held open the door for me as I shadowed him into the hallway. "Wouldn't you like to know John?"

**Ah, I had so much fun writing that! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review if you can, it's very encouraging! Red x**


	2. Chapter 2

**I never thought I was going to touch this again, but I have. I was told too, but I'm actually enjoying it. I preferred it as a one shot, but I must meet the demands of the masses! Enjoy! **

Brilliant! Sherlock was out shopping! This was good in two respects. One: Sherlock was doing the shopping for once. Two: He was out of the flat.

Time it get down to business.

I pulled out my phone, typed in a number and put it on loudspeaker as it rang.

"Mycroft Holmes," A voice said smoothly at the other end of the line.

"Mycroft, it's John. Any developments?"

Sherlock's older brother sighed wearily. "I have many other things to do besides look for pictures of my brother dressed up!"

"Aw Mycroft, please!" I dug through the pile of boxes Sherlock kept on the shelves behind his desk. He had to have something somewhere…

"I'm very bust right now Dr. Watson," Mycroft drawled in an unimpressed tone of voice often used by his younger sibling. "I'm not here just to satisfy your curiosity."

"Mycroft! After all the stuff I've done for you, the _least _you can do it get those case files for me! I went to DI Lestrade yesterday, but he wouldn't let me see any of them. Sherlock's locked them down, something to do with "private content" And "protecting the innocent" milarky. He's just trying to hide the fact that there _are _pictures!"

I tipped over a box onto the desk, leafing through the scribbled notes and abandoned case photographs that Sherlock had never submitted. They were all uninteresting things, like ponds and flakes of green paint. Mycroft coughed.

"And why is it that you want to find these pictures so much?"

"Because it's funny!" I leant over the phone intently. "Do you not find the prospect of your brother dressed as woman funny?"

I could almost imagine Mycroft's face.

"I'm sure he's told you before that he doesn't cross dress for fun?"

"Oh, so you're on his side now! Lighten up!"

"Are you sure it's wise to have your phone on loudspeaker when discussing such things John?" A baritone voice interrupted me. I wiped around with army-instinct speed to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, a murderous look on his face and a bottle of milk in his hand.

"Sherlock! You're back quick!" I smiled weakly.

"I went to get milk John, how long did you think I would be? Or did you thing I was so "spectacularly ignorant" of average life that I wouldn't know where the dairy produce aisle was?" He tested the weight of the four-pint bottle in his hand, taking a step forward.

"You wouldn't Sherlock," I stuttered, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. "it'd be very messy. Leave all sorts of evidence."

"Mm, milk _and _strawberry jam all over the lines," Sherlock cocked his head to the side concededly, considering the consequences. "Messy indeed, but easy to conceal if done properly."

"Brother," Mycroft warned, but Sherlock picked up the phone and threw it at the wall. It fizzled and the back splintered off as it hit the mantle piece. wondering if Sally Donovan was right. Had Sherlock gotten to the point where he was so angry and so bored, that he would kill me? In that moment, as Sherlock cornered me against the desk, and I felt the glossy photographs under my sweating palms, I wondered if I had gone too far.

"Sherlock…" I trembled.

"John," Sherlock locked his grey eyes with mine for one awful moment, then shoved the milk bottle into my hands. "Put the kettle on."

I gave a thin laugh as Sherlock flopped onto the sofa, steepling his fingers and closing his eyes. I moved to put the photos away, but Sherlock waved me off.

"Leave those. They aren't important."

"New case?" I asked, picking up what was almost the weapon of my doom.

"Yes. Lestrade text me when I was out. Shouldn't be too difficult really, but requires an amount of thinking, and probably a lot of tea. Please."

I wandered into the kitchen and took down two mugs from their hanging place on the microscope. It was only as the kettle clicked that a new thought hit me.

"You don't mind, do you?"

Sherlock opened one eye, giving me a quizzical look. I sat down in the arm chair opposite the fire, my elbows on my knees.

"You aren't angry I was looking for those pictures. You…"

"Of course I'm angry John. I come home, your looking through my stuff. I'm angry." Sherlock interrupted.

"Your dignity's on the line. Sally's right, you get off on it. It's a game to you! It's why you locked down all those files. You think it's funny." I sat back with satisfaction. I had a great thrill burning inside me at having discovered-deuced!-Sherlock's motive. My flat mate looked at me for a few seconds, then gave a cool, slow smile.

"You've been on top form recently John. You've been working out, I'm impressed."

"Wrong use of the phrase Sherlock," I pointed out.

"You're quite right. I do find it funny. Actually it's the best fun I've had in ages. Even better than a serial murderer, or beating Mycroft at Cluedo. It's amusing to watch you look for something you'll never find."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that!" I challenged. Sherlock Holmes shook his head with a smile.

"We will indeed, Doctor Watson. Now, how many times do I need to ask for that tea?"

**Aw that was fun to write! There will be ONE MORE CHAPTER, and then this over! It's one of my "one shots in three parts" thing I have going on. Thanks for reading! Please review, and I'll get writing again! Red x**


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